


Some days he felt like fire

by bericdondarrion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:39:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bericdondarrion/pseuds/bericdondarrion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She saw him and Edric off. It wasn’t hard to admit that she found the greatest joy in keeping an eye on both her Lords, taking care of them and of every single detail, from their attire to the way she had to fix Edric’s unsteady bright hair. They were her world, and she could not imagine spending the next few months without them. Without Beric’s touch and his promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some days he felt like fire

_“It shall match your eyes._  
 _And it will be the most beautiful crown of love and beauty that there ever was.”_  
  
Allyria had little to no memories at all about her sister, of Ashara; she was too young when her sister died. Of a broken heart. There was more than one song about the Lady Ashara; they all sounded too beautiful, too real. She loved too much. They said. And Allyria wondered if this was how her sister felt for Eddard Stark; like she felt now for Beric Dondarrion.  
  
It was too easy to get lost within his words, in those gallant promises. She was used to smile shyly, and to blush prettily when he’d lean down to place a kiss on her cheek; slowly, as if he were afraid of breaking something. He never dared to do more than a soft caress and sometimes she would shame herself by counting the days until they could finally be wedded; to share everything they had; to know how it felt to be touched by the person she never expected to love so fervently, but that she did, she did so badly.  
  
Some days he felt like fire.  
  
Over the years, they had come to know each other, constantly looking outward together in the same direction, to their time together as one. She thought herself lucky the first time he saw him; as a house from the Dornish Marches; it would make a convenient match that would help her own house regain some of the lost glory they once had. She knew her duty and swore herself to be the lady that her sister had been; even in her sorrow.  
  
Sorry made her even more beautiful. They said. Allyria wondered if death could be anything but terrible and painful. She feared dead and sometimes it felt too familiar. Her house had almost perished. Death was all around her these days.  
  
She never expected the dashing, gallant knight that came to her two years ago, kneeled before her and promised to be the lord she deserved. They came to know each other, to discover the truth and beauty behind the cold fact that love indeed came from long companionship and persevering courtship. For all her mourning, for carrying out the duty of the lady of House Dayne that rightfully belonged to his sister, she knew he deserved him. And there he was; he had always had a kind heart, perhaps too kind, there was innocence in his words that Allyria wanted to share with him, yes, he would believe in the power of a crown of flowers; and she, she wouldn’t mind being his Queen of Love.  
  
He took her hands in his and kneeled once again, as he would always do.  
  
“If only King’s Landing could grow flowers that reflect the light of your eyes, my lady. But I will try my best and I shall return to you soon enough.”  
  
Part of herself wished to be selfish, unlady like, to have him stay; though she knew the importance of tournaments, it didn’t make the waiting less sour.  
  
“And then we shall wed”, Allyria nodded and he stood up. She knew she would regret this somehow, but her grip tightened and she could almost feel herself clinging to his hand.  
  
“Then hurry up and win that tournament for me, my Lord.”  
  
She saw him and Edric off. It wasn’t hard to admit that she found the greatest joy in keeping an eye on both her Lords, taking care of them and of every single detail, from their attire to the way she had to fix Edric’s unsteady bright hair. They were her world, and she could not imagine spending the next few months without them. Without Beric’s touch and his promises.  
  
She froze in one place until she could no longer see that black banner with the purple lightning across the horizon. And then she ordered the main entrance of Starfall to be closed and she waited.  
  


* * *

  
  
There were no flowers in the Riverlands that could ever match her eyes nor reflect the light from them; just like there weren’t back in King’s Landing. It had become impossible to remember her face, her voice, sometimes even her name. But he was able to remember her eyes. They hunt him, they reminded him of something he used to be. Human and alive.  
  
He picked up a dry petal from the ground, it mattered little. It wasn’t the crown he promised, the tournament, it wasn’t the life he promised, the one she deserved. It was nothing. He had broken every promise he ever made. To her and to everyone.  
  
And he would never go back to her.  
  
He looked down one more time, down and at the body laying at his feet. Lady Catelyn seemed almost alive under the fire that kept his own body from dying.  
  
He could still keep one promise. And he could return Edric to her.  
  
The boy stood next to him, as he had always done. Thoros was trying to reason with Harwin once again. He shook his head and Beric understood; he truly did. He understood death more than any of them, and the sin that came from fooling it with something as terrible as fire. But, I have to do this, because I’m tired and she is waiting for me, it is time for her to stop, to stop waiting. And he promised the girl, he promised Arya. He might be able to fulfill that one oath, just that one.  
  
He kneeled in front of Edric and he had never felt more alive. Somehow he was able to remember, in that moment, Starfall and Blackhaven and everything he once had, everything he had lost, left behind with the memories and the ghost of a past that never belonged to Lord Beric.  
  
“Go back to Starfall. Ride fast and don’t stop. Take them back with you, Anguy and the rest of the men from Blackhaven. And Thoros.” He wished for something that would never happen, he wished to see Thoros remain alive. But his friend would stay behind, he knew, a seven death was supposed to be the end of them both. And it shall be, eventually. _I wish you could have seen Starfall and the Dornish Marches with your own eyes._ He told Thoros in his own silence. _My stories and remembrances fall short. I wish you could have told her the truth, the whole truth that only you know._  
  
Edric frowned, shook his head. He understood the little details that Beric kept leaving unsaid, he knew his soul. He is not coming back. It was something he knew since Mummer’s Ford, but now it was real, now it was here and Edric wondered if he was ever prepared.  
  
His eyes had the crestfall of a warrior yet he remained a child. Beric wished to take so many things back, if he had only never taken him as squire, he would be with Allyria, he would be safe.  
  
“I’m supposed to say with you, my Lord”, he bites his lower lip, like the boy he’s supposed to be, “We are supposed to go back together, my aunt...”.  
  
Everyone’s voice seemed to fade away in the cold air of death. Death and sorrow and silence was what filled the Riverlands and it seemed to Beric that the drums of the Red Wedding that the small folk had been whispering about never stopped playing and now the whole realm could hear them.  
  
They never reached the Twins, they never had to. The river brought down with it everything they were looking for.  
  
“Tell her I was always thinking of her. Until the last moment. Tell her I tried my best, but every flower has died, death killed everything around these lands”  
  
Beric looked up at Thoros, still engaged in his argument. He wished to say goodbye, to explain, to look at him in the eye once again and say everything he had ever wanted to say. But he knew that his friend would try to stop him and that he might be successful. He was always the strong one, he would always be able to knock him off his horse and remind him that once upon a time, he was just a young lordling from the Marches.  
  
Beric smiled at Edric and tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder. “Please don’t die”.

* * *

  
It wasn’t the black banner of House Dondarrion that came with the riders that day. In fact, there was no banner at all and for a moment, she was afraid. The stories of Beric and that group of outlaws had reached every corner of Starfall. She wasn’t ashamed but she was afraid. And angry, she would cry every day, tears full of rage, to Beric, to Eddard Stark who sent him of all people, to the Lannisters, to herself. And she prayed, she prayed for something that might never come.  
  
She was barely able to recognise Edric but she knew that wasn’t the boy who left home years ago. Yes, years, thought it felt longer than that, it felt like a lifetime.  
  
She knew he had died the moment he couldn’t find his face. And she wondered if this was also how Ashara once felt, when her heart broke.


End file.
